Accept that some days you’re the bug, and some days you’re going to be the windshield.

— Jill Shalvis

A conclusion is the place you get to when you’re tired of thinking.

— Jill Shalvis

A few moments ago, he'd had her up against a wall, skirt shoved up to her belly button, hands in her panties, his fingers driving her straight to oblivion, and now... now he was this intense, cool, calm, and collected man. With a gun. "Breanne. Are you ok?" She stared at him. He had his shirt loose and draped over the bulge of his gun. He looked rough-and-tumble. Badass. Damn it, she had a serious weakness for badass.

— Jill Shalvis

Apparently it'd been too long since her last social orgasm...

— Jill Shalvis

Are we going to be stupid?” she whispered.“Define stupid.”“Anything that involves either one of us exposing our favorite body parts.” Or their hearts…“I want to hear about your favorite body part,” he said. “In great detail.

— Jill Shalvis

Are you okay?" "Fan-fricking-tactic. Only way today could get better is if I were scheduled for an appendectomy. Without drugs. In a third-world country.

— Jill Shalvis

At the unexpected sight of Spence, Collie startled hard. How was it that he was the one who needed glasses, and yet she’d not seen him standing against the window? “No, I don’t kill a lot of people,” she said cautiously because she was wearing only a toweling front of a strange man. “But I’m happy to make an exception.” He laughed, a rough rumble that was more than a little contagious, but she controlled herself because, hello, she was once again dripping wet before the man who seemed to make her knees forget to hold her up.“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and pushed off the wall to come close. She froze, but he held up his hands like, I come in peace, and crouched at her feet to scoop up the clothes she hadn’t realized she’d dropped. Leggings, a long forgiving tee, and the peach silk bra-and-panty set that hadn’t gotten so much as a blink from the TSA guy. But it got one out of Spence. He also swallowed hard as she snatched them back from him.“Hold on,” he said and caught her arm, pulling it toward him to look at her bleeding elbow.”Sit,” he said and gently pushed her down to a weight bench. He vanished into the bathroom and came back out with a first aid kit. It took him less than two minutes to clean and bandage the scrape. Then, easily balanced at her side on the balls of his feet, he did the same for both her knees, which she hadn’t noticed were also scraped up.“You must’ve hit the brick coping as you fell in the fountain,” he said and let his thumb slide over the skin just above one bandaged knee. She shivered, and not from the cold either. “Not going to kiss it better?” she heard herself ask before biting her tongue for running away with her good sense. She’d raised her younger twin brothers. Scrappy, roughhouse wild animals, the both of them, so there’d been plenty of injuries she’d kissed over the years. But no one had ever kissed hers. Not surprising, since most of her injuries tended to be on the inside, where they didn’t show. Still, she was horrified she’d said anything at all. “I didn’t mean—” She broke off, frozen like a deer in the headlights as Spence slowly lowered his head, brushing his lips over the Band-Aid on her elbow, then her knees. When he lifted his head, he pushed his glasses higher on his nose, those whiskey eyes warm and amused behind his lenses. “Better?” Shockingly better. Since she didn’t quite trust her voice at the moment, she gave a jerky nod and took her clothes back into the bathroom. She shut the door and then leaned against it, letting out a slow, deliberate breath. Holy cow, she was out of her league. He was somehow both cute and hot, and those glasses.

— Jill Shalvis

Ben was in his truck, window down, idling at the curb, dark lenses hiding his eyes from her, looking effortlessly big and badass. The way she wished she felt.

— Jill Shalvis

Change is good, but dollars are better.- Tara Daniels

— Jill Shalvis

Cupping a cheek in each hand, he lifted her back up to his desk and pressed his hips hard into hers. Her eyes were worried. "But people keep coming---" "The next person to come is going to be you," he said.

— Jill Shalvis